Heroes Aren't Forgotten
by TheAvianChronicler
Summary: The city is in ruins. Millions are dead. In the wake of one of the most destructive attacks on Acmetropolis, Rev Runner has gone missing, and loyal friend Tech E. Coyote takes the burden of rescue upon himself.  Violence, Language. NO SLASH.
1. Aftermath

**Boy, this is awkward. How long's it been, ? Two months? Three, even? Sorry about my absence, but I've had a lot on my plate lately. No need to get into specifics. During this "time off," however, I did discover a rich (and exploitable) cartoon series known as _Loonatics Unleashed_. I was compelled to research further into the series and the fanfictions it has spawned since its release. *Time is short, so I must rush with this intro* Bottom line: I love _Loonatics_ now, and am excited to present my first fic dealing with the franchise. Enjoy.**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 1 – Aftermath**

Acmetropolis had seen its fair share of devastation, but never had it suffered so greatly as last night.

When the sun fell, so did this city.

But that was then, and this is now.

Tech E. Coyote walked slowly through what was once the city's main residential district, once a monumental testament to the power of man, now reduced to nothing but a crumbling mass of glass, concrete and steel.

The steel was the worst part, twisted upward by what looked to have been nothing less than fits of pure agony, rusty thin fingers and hands reaching up to the sky, as if begging for some form of vindication.

Or release.

The green canine's eyes were closed, and yet he walked forwards still, his bruised and dusty face slightly frowning.

He stopped and opened his eyes, taking in the full breadth of the ruin.

No buildings stood, save for a few, hollowly in the distance, the morning sun behind them turning their already sad forms into macabre silhouettes.

It was a horizon of skeletons.

"Nothing but debris for miles."

Tech looked up.

The beautiful orange sky seemed to taunt the lone canine, its magnificence making the earth below it seem that much more impossible to bear.

Tech looked down.

His left boot was caked with dried mud and glittered with a glassy dust. His right foot, without any form of boot, was cut and bloody, the reddish-brown substance beginning to clot between the toes of his paw. Bare to just below his knee, the uncovered limb made him feel naked.

A nearby rag, brown and dusty.

A perfect bandage.

Scavenging like this felt dirty and primitive, but he knew he had no other choice. When Mastermind detonated the EMP that would begin last night's chaos, nearly all technology was rendered useless.

All of his technology.

Bending over to wrap his leg in the makeshift legging, he saw the sleeves of his uniform, the right one cut halfway between his shoulder and elbow, the loose fabric beginning to bunch up against his gauntlet.

His other sleeve was caked with blood.

Then again, his whole uniform was caked with blood, some from others, some of his own, most from wounds still bleeding.

He knew he'd have to stop and rest soon, and it angered him.

Tech E. Coyote was on a search mission, a mission more important to him than any other before it.

When the team split up last night, it was Ace who had planned this morning's regroup.

There were six last night, and only five this morning.

* * *

_For thirty minutes they sat. With every passing minute Tech seemed to age a year._

_Tech remembered that it was Ace who finally called it._

"_Every second we wait here is one more second the few survivors out there loose. We need ta' split up again and provide aid where we can."_

_Tech remembered everyone beginning to shuffle, to slowly and solemnly rise to face their leader._

_Ace spat orders to the team, but none of it registered in Tech's ears._

_He remembered Ace coming over to him, where he sat staring at the blood-puddled ground beneath him._

"_I has a spe-sheel assignment for you."_

_It was then that Ace began to spew out some "spe-sheel" speech, about how heroes aren't forgotten, and the worst part was that it sounded planned, the bastard!_

_He had worked hard on that speech, but only five words registered in the coyote's mind:_

…_heroes aren't forgotten; Find Rev._


	2. Realizations

**Hey, ! Sorry if there's been any sort of wait, but I've been really busy, but who really cares about that stuff anyway? This has been a bit of a complex fic to write so far, mostly due to how different it is from anything else I've ever written. Writing for me is a constant strive for perfection, so it also erks me when I read something like, "When the team split up last night, it was Ace who decided that all six of them meet up at a pre-designated location at a pre-designated time," straight out of my own fic! Therefore, I have taken the liberty of not only adding a new chapter, but smoothing out some of the rougher edges from the previous one! Once again, enjoy!**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 2 – Realizations**

The coyote had been walking for what he guessed to have been two hours, and already needed to stop and rest. His green eyes hastily searched for some form of shelter before finally resting on a large patch of dirt. Slowly, delicately, Tech placed his one bootless foot onto the dusty spot, which was quickly followed by his other foot and a sigh of relief.

Free of debris, this one spot felt like heaven to the canine, especially after walking over what seemed to have been an ocean of broken glass and steel.

Palm against what looked to be the remains of a nearby concrete wall, Tech lowered himself to the soil, first sitting with his knees bent up in front of him, then finally leaning back to sprawl out on the ground.

A short, morbid chuckle escaped from him as he realized how absurd he must look.

"Like a kid making snow angels."

Slowly, he began moving his arms and legs back and forth, as if making a snow angel himself.

He felt the dust press against him as he moved, felt it get into his fur. His hands grasped at the sandy earth, squeezing it in his fists and feeling it flow between his fingers. Tech's snout pointed straight up, his mouth closed, serious, sleep-deprived eyes analyzing the blue sky above. Clouds billowed by, some small and white, like fluffy pieces of cotton.

Most were black, soot-ridden monstrosities.

He quickly shut his eyes, held them shut till they hurt.

The sky had looked to be the only thing left untouched by the devastation, the only item of beauty in this ravaged and heart-broken world, but now it was tainted, broken by the tragedy below.

"Where did it all go?" the canine mused out loud.

His voice now down to a whisper: "Where did all the beauty go?"

_It's dead,_ a voice inside him calmly answered.

_It's dead because Mallory killed it._

_Killed it all._

His eyes had opened, his face now hardened into an expression of deep thought.

"What happened last night?" he asked the voice.

Tech's expression loosened slightly when he realized that no response was coming.

"C'mon Tech, think! This is easy!"

Then it came to him.

"Nothing had happened before six**-**o'clock. When Mallory**–**"

He stopped, surprised at himself**.**

"When _Mastermind_ detonated the EMP at sunset** –** six**-**o'clock **–** everyone went crazy! No communications, no vehicular transport**–**"

The canine smiled slightly, knowing that he was on a roll and couldn't be stopped**–**

"–No financial records, no security systems, no _lights!_ The perfect way to leave Acmetropolis defenseless, to leave it open for a finishing blow**–**"

What was a small smile was now a toothy grin**–**

"–Which was a three**-**hour barrage of seismic activity that effectively leveled Acmetropolis, which could only have been the work of one Dr. Thaddeus Dare**–**"

Tech was beaming now, practically laughing out loud**–**

"–Except for the fact that he's still nothing but a statue, incapable of launching any form of attack, meaning that some _other_ genius **–** like Mastermind **–** happened to stumble upon the secret to Dare's geo**-**kinesis at some earlier point, perfected it, and then promptly used it to destroy Acmetropolis!"

He was overjoyed at himself for having figured it out so quickly! Hell, even Rev would have been impressed by how fast**–**

His eyes widened, his smile died.

Instantly, Tech felt empty, a husk of his former self.

The coyote lay still on the ground, frozen. Seconds passed like hours.

"Rev..."

His own voice startled him, breaking the canine out of his trance.

He got up quickly, too quickly, and felt his legs give out beneath him. Black spots rolled across his eyes, and for a moment he felt blind. He felt the concrete wall from earlier smash into his shoulder, pain shooting through his arm, howls of agony erupting from his lungs.

Quickly the pain subsided, and Tech gave one last, pathetic whimper.

Beaten and embarrassed, Tech suddenly longed to give it all up. He had lost too much blood, and desperately needed medical treatment.

But he knew he would not stop.

He knew he wouldn't stop until he found Rev.

He would go home with Rev or he would go home a corpse.

_But what if Rev can't come home?_

Tech's ear twitched.

_What if Rev's dead?_

The canine's ears flattened on his head. He gulped, loudly.

"Then I'll bring home a corpse."

Tech pointed himself in the direction Rev was last seen running in, the direction he went off in when they split up last night.

"Rev's still waiting for me, one way or another.

Don't worry, old friend, you haven't been forgotten."


	3. Hope

**Hey everyone! The feedback I've gotten back so far from this fic has been quite good, but I have sensed that some people believe the plot to be moving along a little too... slowly. Determined to please, I have decided to move things along slightly, but take note: This isn't just the story of Tech's search for Rev; It's the story of Tech's struggles to survive and to cope with the tragedy presented to him on a constant basis. That's not to say that this story is only focused on Tech...**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 3 – Hope**

He had felt so alone.

He had only tried to help.

* * *

_God, this room is big.  
__And it's so goddamn... yellow.  
__Flowers everywhere?  
__No, not everywhere.  
__Just on the desk.  
__The desk is black.  
__The flowers are yellow.  
__There are so many people!  
__No, wait, just two.  
__It's Ralph and Harriet.  
__Ma and Pa Runner.  
__Rip is there, too, but he's looking away.  
__From the desk.  
__From the coffin.  
__Shit.  
__They're crying.  
__I still can't see Rip's face.  
__Who's in the coffin?  
__I know who's in the coffin.  
__I'm wrong.  
__I must be.  
__Hello, don't you see me?  
__They don't care.  
__Who's in the coffin?  
__I know who's in the coffin.  
__The flowers are red.  
__The lid is shut.  
__The coffin has a latch.  
__It burns my hand.  
__It singes my fur.  
__It eats my hope.  
__Inside.  
__The.  
__Coffin.  
__Is.  
__...  
__Rip turns to me.  
__I turn to Rip.  
__His face is tortured._

_

* * *

_

The water is warm, like piss.

It's comforting.

Face**-**down in a puddle, Tech E. Coyote finally wakes.

Drowsily, he pushes the moist ground away. Without warning, one hand slips, and the green**-**eyed canine is back on the ground.

Slowly he stands up, eyes searching for any sign of the child.

His head throbbed with pain, dull and warm.

"What the hell was that?"

The coyote frowned.

He knew exactly what happened.

How old had the girl been?

Seven?

Eight?

She had looked so scared, so alone, and he had stopped for her.

He had offered his hand.

And then there was pain, and that terrible, terrible dream.

Tech took one step, then stopped, as if remembering something important.

Frantically, he searched his belt, his pockets.

"_Dammit!"_

They had taken the bottle of water he had found. It had been clean water, too, and four hours into his journey he was thirstier than ever.

He looked over his shoulder, back at the puddle they had left him in, the puddle he had waken in.

Brown, muddy.

_Do I really have a choice?_

Cautiously, he walked over and lowered himself to the ground.

As he began to lap up the water, the dream came back to him, and a terrifying thought took hold of his mind.

_What if it wasn't just a dream._

_What if it's some sort of a warning?_

_Some sort of a sign?_

The coyote's eyes looked down at the puddle, where another coyote looked up at him.

Except this was not the same coyote.

This one was haggard and dirty, with a crooked snout and black gums.

The coyote staring up at him looked dead, save those brilliant green eyes.

Blood dripped from the other Tech's nose, from his nose, and the reflection was clouded.

Wait **–** crooked snout, bloody nose...

His nose was broken.

"_Shit!"_

He stopped drinking and held his snout with shaky hands.

Oh, crap, did it hurt, but he had to try and wedge it back into place. It was only off by a little bit, just a few centimeters, but it would be so much easier without all of that goddamned static in**-**

Tech's eyes widened. His hands dropped from his snout.

Static?

Static!

The green canine leaped up, ears shifting this way and that, feverishly trying to pinpoint the noise. He searched frantically, running and tripping from one pile of debris to the next, digging with his paws, cutting himself but not caring, the buzz of static growing louder and louder.

Amazed, Tech lifted the device up to his face, analyzing it with desperate eyes.

It was a brown box, no more than six inches long and three inches wide, with what looked to be a four**-**inch antenna sprouting out from the top. On one side it had two evenly**-**sized squares, one Tech assumed to be a microphone and the other a speaker.

It looked like an old walkie**-**talkie.

On the side opposite the microphone and speaker was a small knob with numbers on it. The numbers ranged from one to ninety**-**nine, the machine itself currently set to seven.

Excited, Tech began to twist the knob slowly, first from seven to one, then in the opposite direction, going up.

With every twist Tech's face grew more and more serious.

There were people on the "radio," people on every channel.

One was a weeping mother, begging for any information on the whereabouts of her daughter.

Another was a doctor, offering medical services and giving general directions to his location. Tech silently memorized the coordinates.

Most were young men asking for replies regarding the location of food or clean water.

Tech longed to reply, longed to assist, but forced himself to ignore their cries.

It was not until channel eighty**-**seven that the canine found what he was looking for.

The voice on the radio was unmistakable.

**"_-name is Rev Runner, I don't know where I am... Ace? Tech? If anyone can hear this, I could really use some help right NOW! Anybody? Anybody...-"_**


	4. Needs

***yawn* What a late night! I feel like crap, but... I don't know. ANYWAYS this is "Chapter 4" but, before I begin, I would like to ask YOU, the readers, a question. Am I good at this? Writing, I mean. It's weird, being some 16-year-old gamer shut-in like me and finding out that your actually "good" at something like this. Also, I would like to say that the fic will shift slightly in tone from now on, as Tech will (for the most part) never be alone again, what with Rev on the radio. ALSO... there is more action. Sorry I'm so boring! Read N' Review!**

**P.S. – Sorry bunnyloverforever for saying Tuesday and uploading Friday! I'll figure out a way to make it up to you!**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 4 – Needs**

**"_-name is Rev Runner, I don't know where I am... Ace? Tech? If anyone can hear this, I could really use some help right NOW! Anybody? Anybody...-"_**

Tech's head began to swim.

Rev was alive.

He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. The hours between their last conversation had seemed like months.

_So converse._

The words sounded like they were being shaken out of him.

"...Rev? Is that you?"

Silence.

"Rev? C'mon, answer me."

Silence.

"_Rev? Dammit!"_

Silence.

The coyote waited. His heart pumped fast, he could hear it in his ears, his whole body pulsating in tune.

**"_-Hello? Is anybody out there? Is this thing even working?-"_**

Tech didn't respond, _couldn't_ respond.

The radio was broken.

At least, the microphone inside was.

His shoulders slumped, the radio dropped from his hand.

**"_-This would be so much easier if I could just MOVE-"_**

Tech looked down at the radio with haunted eyes.

Silence.

And nothing more.

* * *

It had been half an hour since he had last heard Rev's voice, but every now and then he could still hear what sounded like shuffling coming from the other end of the radio. Not knowing before had been painful, but knowing Rev was alive and not being able to do anything about it, not even able to talk to him, let him know that he hadn't been forgotten...

He might find an old microphone, he told himself, maybe fix the radio. Heck, he might even find a new radio.

Regardless of what happened, it wasn't over, not yet.

But still, he couldn't fight off the negative thoughts that now pervaded his mind.

_Rev is trapped, didn't you hear? 'This would be so much easier if I could just MOVE'..._

_Maybe it's dark where he is. Maybe he's alone._

_Maybe he's going to die alone._

His gut hurt, his head hurt, he had to take a shit and now he felt like crying.

And he was still bleeding all over.

He stopped dead, the canine's sunken green eyes opening wide.

Realization smacked into him like a wall.

Maybe the doctor he had heard on the radio earlier could help him.

...

At least with the bleeding.

* * *

And then he saw someone. Alive.

No, not just one. Many.

They were all lined up in the same direction, all ragged and filthy.

He squinted his eyes and guessed there were about a dozen, all ragged and filthy, lined up in front of a faded green tent, also ragged and filthy.

Hell, everything was ragged and filthy.

Tech ran up to the person closest to him, an old woman with a deep cut on her nose.

"What's going on here?"

He pointed to the tent.

The old woman smiled at him, laughed at him even.

"It's the doctor! From the radio! Did you hear him too?"

She was holding a bundle in her arms, a small baby, its face a sickly yellow.

"Little Michael is ill, and I promised his mother..."

Her voice drifted off, her smile now gone and her eyes distant, cloudy.

"His mother..."

She began to whimper, her eyes beginning to water, and soon enough she had erupted into a full sob. Confused, the baby began to cry as well.

Still holding the baby, she reached one frail arm around the canine, his arms trapped at his sides.

Tech looked around nervously, at the other people around him, but they did not care.

They only wanted to get in that tent.

Slowly, cautiously, Tech lifted his arms from her embrace and placed them around the old woman, around her and the baby.

"Um..."

_You idiot!_

_Say something!_

"Eh... there... there... I'm sure everything will be alright..."

_That's the best you can come up with?_

_Come on, no one's that bad at improv!_

Then Tech closed his eyes, closed his mind, closed out everything except this old woman, bony and frail, and the orphan she held in her arm. Tech dug deep, deep within himself, and what came out came straight from his heart.

"You've been through a lot, I know. I **–** I understand what it's like to..."

He paused, trying to find the right words.

"...to _loose_ someone. It seems that, last night, we all lost someone..."

_Alright, Tech, it's getting a bit corny now..._

Suddenly reality washed back over him, and the old woman's sobbing embrace began to weaken.

She pulled, away, her eyes still watering.

"Bless your heart, young man. Bless your heart."

A voice, strong and demanding, erupted from the tent.

"_Next!"_

The old woman turned to the tent, her tears gone and her face now lit up.

"Oh, that's me! Or rather, Michael. Wish me luck!"

She winked at him and then hastily ducked into the tent. Tech tried to see in, but it was much too dark. He waited a few minutes, truly concerned about the old woman.

_She'll be alright, Tech, just keep moving. Besides, I'm pretty sure there's someone else who could use your help right about NOW..._

He knew that Rev was still in trouble and that, yes, finding Rev should be his immediate priority, but he needed to see this doctor _now_, and if the old woman was here, he might as well help her out a bit**-**

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of people yelling from the tent.

Instantly he was on full alert, his eyes locked on the tent's entrance.

The old woman from earlier flew out of the tent, obviously thrown. She landed on her face.

Tech sprinted over to her, his heart pounding.

Her face was bleeding all over, black spots beginning to form around her eyes.

She lay there, sobbing, and Tech kneeled down before her.

His voice was not one of concern. It was serious, demanding.

"What happened?"

He looked around.

"Where's Michael?"

Slowly she looked up at him, up at his bruised and dusty face, up into his deadly green eyes.

"I don't know!"

He looked at the tent, at the people around him**-**

"_Next!"_

**-**And they just stepped right over her.

Like a pothole in the road.

His eyes closed, his fists clenched. He rose to his feet, felt like a machine, his movements calculated and mechanical. He strode over to the tent, leaving the old woman on the ground.

Nothing else existed.

Nothing but him and the monsters in that tent.


	5. Priceless

**Hey everybody! I'm so thrilled at how quickly this fic is picking up fans, but I do have a few warning words to say to readers. This fic is violent and dirty, unforgiving in its cruelty towards its characters. It is meant to show how far we, as a society, will push our humanity in the fight for our own survival. Backed up into a corner (and without any other options) the average person will fight, steal and even kill. Tech has slowly started to learn this, and from here on out he will have to fight, steal and even kill to survive as well. This is where things get really gruesome.**

**P.S. – This and the last chapter were actually meant to be released as one, but were split up due to the insane length. Enjoy!**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 5 – Priceless**

He burst into the tent.

Without giving his eyes time to adjust to the low light, he was blindly charging into a possibly hostile situation.

But he didn't care.

All he cared about was the baby.

All he cared about was Michael.

His tone was hard and direct.

"Where's Michael?"

Now that his eyes had fully adjusted, he realized just how stupid he was to charge in as hastily as he did.

The tent's interior, just like its exterior, was a dark faded green. There were four corners, about five yards from each other, and in each corner stood a man with a gun.

Not giant, burly men. Young men about his size.

He could take them.

In the middle of the room was another man, shorter than the rest. His lab coat, which Tech assumed to have been a sterile white at one point, was now soiled with dirt and blood. Crooked glasses rested on his nose.

Tech guessed he was the doctor.

"Michael? Who's Michael?"

The doctor's voice was friendly and inquisitive. It was trusting.

But Tech did not let up.

"The baby! _Where's the goddamn baby?"_

The doctor smiled.

"What baby do you refer to?"

Tech was getting angrier now.

"_'What baby?'",_ he growled, now baring his teeth, _"The baby belonging to the woman you just threw out your goddamn door!"_

"Oh, yes... _that_ baby..."

The doctor's face grew serious.

"I'm assuming that you heard me over the radio offering my services, no?"

The doctor stepped closer, Tech now staring down at him.

"Obviously, you are from that 'super-hero' team who call yourselves 'Loonatics'. You are..."

The doctor's eyes squinted behind his large glasses.

"_Tech!_ Tech E. Coyote! I've heard of you elsewhere as well. You have made quite a name for yourself in the scientific community these last few years."

Tech's face softened sightly. The man knew what he was talking about.

"You're pretty smart, so I'll make this brief. I am a 'doctor', but not _that_ kind of doctor. I'm a scientist."

He looked around.

"Well, _was_ a scientist. But I'm still a doctor. I have a doctorate."

The doctor smiled.

"But what use is _that_ in a time like _this?"_

He laughed.

"It has no use. So I masquerade as a real doctor. I 'pretend' to help these people by giving them sugared waters and the occasional asprin. Sometimes I'll get my hands dirty sewing up wounds, but all that is the same as sewing up a pillow. In exchange for my 'services', the people pay me however they can. Food. Water. Clothes. Anything. And if they can't..."

His smile grew even wider.

"I have these four fine fellows to make them pay. They help me**-**"

He pointed to one of the men**-**

"**-**And I give them a share of my intake. What, do you not approve? _We survive._ It is all that matters."

He pointed to the tent's entrance.

"That woman out there had nothing to give. When she comes back with payment, I'll give her her son back."

Tech gaped at the "doctor" in disbelief, unsure of what his next move should be.

"I would offer my 'services' to you, Mr. Coyote, but I don't think you really want that anymore, do you? You know that we can't have you telling those people out there that I'm a fraud..."

Tech cocked his head slightly, then realized too late what was going to happen.

The gunman in the corner directly to Tech's right stepped toward him, smashing the butt of his gun into Tech's face. The canine dropped to the floor, screaming.

"I don't like it and neither do you, but if it helps to look at it this way**-**"

The "doctor" lowered his face to Tech's, his voice now down to a whisper**-**

"**-**It's either _this,_ or death. In this terrible time, it's either _you,_ or me."

Tech lifted his face to meet the "doctor's". His snout was bleeding again, and now he grinned. His teeth were sharp and bloody.

His green eyes looked up at the man who had striked him down, looked up at his gun. It was an older gun, one that fired lead.

It was a shotgun.

The other two gunmen across the room held handguns, one of them small and light, the other appearing to be some form of a Magnum.

In designing and constructing weapons for his team, he had spent much time researching older weapon models, often with Rev by his side.

The fourth man smashed his gun butt into Tech's eyes before he could identify the weapon.

* * *

Tech guessed he'd been out for about thirty seconds.

His face felt warm with the liquid now dripping from his brow. He was on the ground, but he didn't dare move. Voices came to him, distant but familiar. It took him a few more seconds to understand what was being said.

"...kill him now, then drag him out back. No firearms. _Wait!_ First, search him! Maybe he has**-**"

Tech chose now to strike.

He pushed off from the floor and shot straight up. Quickly he shifted into combat stance, his mind on full alert, his heart pumping faster and faster as adrenaline began to course through his body. The gunmen looked at him, confused.

Everything happened in slow motion.

The gunman closest to him, wielding the shotgun, thrust his weapon sideways, trying to catch Tech with its butt. Tech ducked the weapon, looked up, saw it move over his head.

The canine reached up and grabbed the gun, spinning it in the gunman's grip, who released it, cursing.

Behind him he could hear the doctor.

"_Don't fire your weapons yet! You'll scare off the customers!"_

Now disarmed, the man in front of Tech pulled back his fist, preparing for a punch. Tech did the first thing that came to mind.

_These teeth aren't just for show._

Tech turned his head sideways and opened his jaws. He could feel his teeth sink into his victim's throat, ripping through tendons.

Tech jerked his head back, ripping away from the man's throat. He spun around just in time to see the second gunman unholstering his sidearm.

"_I said don't shoot!"_

Tech could feel the fresh blood dripping down his chin, down his chest.

Down his tongue.

The man's quivering esophagus hung from his mouth.

Still wielding the shotgun, he rushed the gunman, who now had his handgun out all of the way. It was the smaller one, not the Magnum.

In one swift motion, Tech slammed his shoulder into the gunman's chest, thrust the shotgun's barrel into his stomach, and pulled the trigger.

The sound slammed his ears, deafening the canine.

On the floor was the top half of the gunman, facedown and nearly a yard away. His bottom half twitched against Tech's foot, his intestines glued to the wall.

Tech whirled around to see the three survivors staring at him in terror.

The meat in his mouth was slimy, and Tech spit it out with disgust. Blood coated his face, his hands.

"_I'm not fucking around! Where's the goddamn baby?"_

The room was dead still, dead silent.

The "doctor" was the first to speak up.

"Well now, let's just _calm down_ and take a deep breath..."

His voice was as it was before. Friendly, trusting.

Tech stared at him silently, green eyes glowing with hatred. He shifted the shotgun's direction, now pointing it at the "doctor".

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Just look around."

Tech's eye twitched as he silently assessed the situation.

It was hopeless.

Two gunmen remained, their weapons trained on the coyote. One held a Magnum.

The other held an assault rifle.

Again it was silent.

Tech's eyes darted back and forth, desperately looking for a way out.

The tent's entrance was too far, there was no way he would make it.

He couldn't shoot the doctor. He needed him alive.

He knew where Michael was.

But the other two guards**-**

The Magnum fired, the bullet slamming into Tech's chest. Tech felt himself lift off his feet and felt the ground smash into his shoulder. The pain nearly caused him to black out, but he held on.

He had to hold on.

Three dark figures stood over him. Something glimmered in his peripheral vision.

"What now?"

The shortest one looked at the one who had spoken.

"Might as well just shoot him again. He's ruined us, anyways. All our customers are probably either gone or too scared to come inside."

The glimmering object moved into view. Tech looked down the silver barrel of the Magnum.

Feebly, he lifted his arm and pointed at the weapon. It began to glow green.

"_What the fuck?"_

The barrel began to shiver, at first weakly, then with one violent movement it snapped back, bent.

Tech chuckled weakly.

"Laugh at me, eh? I'll _beat_ your sorry ass to death!"

The figure bent down over him, digging his knee into Tech's chest.

Tech burst into a fit of violent coughing, which quickly simmered down to a quiet wet gurgle.

Slowly, the dark figure raised his fist over Tech's head, ready to bring it down. Tech closed his eyes and**-**

"_**-Hello?-"**_

Tech heard the "doctor's" voice.

"What was _that?"_

The man's fist remained frozen above Tech's head.

_Rev._

"_**-It's been six or seven HOURS. I think. C'mon, isn't ANYBODY out there...-"**_

Tech's eyes were open, looking straight into the "doctor's" face.

"Is that a radio?"

Without warning, another face peeked into the tent. This man was about the same age as Tech, and he was filthy.

"What was with the gunshots? Is that one guy okay?"

Desperately the "doctor" blocked Tech from his sight.

"Eh... _yes..._ he is... _alright..._**-**Why?"

The stranger looked at the "doctor" with unsure eyes.

"A bunch of people out here began saying that you had probably killed that guy, and they wanted me to check. They keep saying..."

His voice faded off as he looked around the room.

"Maybe I should tell everyone that this isn't a good time for you. After all, it looks like you have quite the mess to clean up**-**"

The "doctor" practically yelled at him.

"_No no no! _Everything is _fine!_ Just send the next person right on in!"

The young man nodded and sneaked one last look at Tech before pulling his head back.

"_SHIT!"_

"What now, boss?"

"_I DON'T KNOW! CRAP SHIT FUCK!"_

"...Boss**-**"

"_WELL WE CAN'T KILL HIM NOW!"_

"_**-Hello-"**_

"_TAKE THAT GODDAMN RADIO AWAY AND TURN IT OFF!"_

Tech tried to stop the guard but was too weak. The radio was quickly confiscated.

Someone began to step into the tent, and Tech was hastily lifted to his feet. The "doctor" quickly began to whisper into Tech's ear.

"_Now listen to me, dog, and listen good. I have a customer. I intend to have more customers. You will walk out of here without a word and you will keep walking. If you must know, the baby's dead. If you want to avoid the same fate, you will walk. Utter one word to the woman outside and I will step out there and shoot you myself. I'm keeping your radio. You can keep _this**-**"

He whimpered as something sharp stabbed into his neck.

"_It's a pain reliever. A sedative. It'll keep you standing until you're out of sight. Do you understand?"_

Reluctantly, the coyote nodded.

"_Good. Now get the fuck out of my clinic."_

_

* * *

_

The people watched the canine emerge from the tent. They did not ask any questions.

The old woman had crawled over to a nearby rock and looked desperately at Tech.

He gave her a mild glace, then turned away.

He walked forwards, continuing in what he prayed to be Rev's direction.

He shed no tears for Michael.


	6. Contact

**Wow, It's been two whole weeks. I am so, so sorry for those who were really following this thing! "Don't worry, I'm not dead!" I just needed to take a break.  
****Or two.  
****BUT I'M BACK, AND WITH GOOD NEWS! The last two weeks have given me a massive chance to just stop and think about some of the projects I got coming up, and I've gotten the chance to get a head-start on some of those. (I do more than just _write,_ people!) One of these projects is _Loonatics_ related but IS NOT a written fan-fic! More on that soon...**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 6 – Contact**

The sedative was weak.

Tech E. Coyote had "left" the doctor's tent ten minutes ago, and the drug injected into his neck was already starting to wear off. For a few minutes, Tech had felt a little at peace, the drug clouding his thoughts and numbing his pain.

He longed for that feeling again.

The pain had floated back to him, at first weak and manageable. Now it stabbed into him with every step, every breath.

The bullet had gone clean through him, directly through his right lung. His breathing was deep and labored.

Now he was choking on blood.

He felt like he was drowning.

Everything was happening too fast.

He stumbled onward, barely able to keep himself up.

_Look what you've gotten yourself into now, Tech._

He replied with a mess of coughs and gurgling.

_You know that you could fix all of this._

Tech collapsed onto his face. His chest screamed at him on impact and blood shot from his mouth like a jet.

_You've been crushed and incinerated countless times, and you're going to let something like a gunshot and a few scrapes take you down?_

Molecular regeneration, one of his most useful powers. It had saved him at least a hundred times before.

And each of those times had been agonizing.

Tech had always tried to look tough, tried to look like it didn't really bother him. Yeah, he looked a bit worn out afterward, but the team always figured it was just something you shrugged off.

Clearly they had never died before.

It was strange, the minutes between. There was nothing.

Not even blackness.

Just... nothing...

He was already in so much pain, he didn't want to go through any more.

...

But Rev needed him.

And so Tech closed his eyes and held his breath, closed his eyes for what should have been the last time.

* * *

_Sore._

_I am so fucking sore._

_Ow._

Drowsily, Tech opened his eyes.

He was indoors**-**

"Egh..."

**-**lying down on his back**-**

"W-w-wha..."

**-**with a fire burning next to him.

His throat was dry, unimaginably dry. It felt like sandpaper.

_Where the hell am I?_

He tried to sit up but pain brought him back down.

Not pain in his chest.

Just in his muscles.

_That's good, that means I'm back._

The coyote's ear twitched. He heard something.

Someone.

Footsteps.

And then a metallic clatter, like cans being dropped.

"Oh, crap..."

Tech still couldn't see who it was, but the voice sounded friendly. Definitely male.

"Honey, could you grab that for me?"

Another voice, this one a child's. Definitely female.

"Yes daddy!"

Tech laid still, praying that these people would not shoot him, stab him**-**

"Hey babe, guess who's awake?"

**-**beat him, harm him in any way. He was done with that crap.

_This can't be bad, just listen to them._

Again he tried to get up, and again he failed, this time with an audible wheeze.

"Here, friend, let me help you up."

He felt someone grip his arm. It was a strong grip, but not forceful.

Tech let the man pull him up, and he finally got a chance to take in his surroundings.

The room was a library, and a massive one, too. Bookshelves ten feet high surrounded him, all lined with thick volumes and covering nearly every wall. Structurally, the room was intact, no broken walls and no windows to break. Everything was covered in a thick dust.

There was no light, save for the flicker of the small fire next to him. It cast frantic shadows across his "rescuers" face.

He looked to be about thirty, his face rough and defined. The beginnings of a beard had started to grow, brown, just like his hair, which was cut short. His eyes were hard and thoughtful, the eyes of a man on a mission. Tech guessed that that was probably what his own eyes looked like.

The man's released Tech's arm, which received a warm pat.

"Hey there, friend. You slept like a rock. I think we dragged you around for fifteen minutes before getting you in here."

Tech wanted to let down his guard, but after all that had happened today, he still felt he couldn't be too sure of these people yet.

The man read this feeling in Tech's face.

"Don't worry, you're fine in here."

He reached out his hand.

"My name's Mark."

Slowly, Tech lifted his arm and gripped the man's hand, shaking it cautiously. The man's handshake was firm and friendly.

"Tech. My name's Tech."

Mark smiled, then turned away.

"Sarah! Why don't you come over here and introduce yourself?"

Tech turned his head just in time to see a small figure rushing at him. The canine raised his arms to defend himself, but it was already to late.

The small figure lunged at him, wrapping it's arms around Tech. He winced as his muscles protested to the "surprise attack".

"Woah there, kiddo, our friend here's still a bit shaken up. _No hugs yet."_

Mark reached over and pulled the figure off of Tech.

"You here me, Sarah? _No hugs yet."_

It was a little girl with straight golden hair and a beaming grin. Her eyes where a brilliant blue hue. She looked to be only seven or eight.

"Sorry, daddy. Why are you so _fussy?"_

Mark didn't reply. He turned to Tech and stared deeply at him, giving the most serious look the coyote had ever seen.

"You haven't introduced yourself yet, and we don't want to be rude."

Still he stared at Tech, and the canine could read everything in the man's expression.

_This is my daughter. If you so much as look at her wrong, you will die._

The little girl turned away from her father to Tech, who nervously turned away from the man as well.

"_My name's Sarah. Pleased to meet you._ Now hugs?"

Mark hesitated.

"Eh, why don't you get our friend here something to drink. He looks really thirsty, and I need to _have a talk_ with him. 'Kay babe?"

Sarah jogged away from the two, disappearing into the darkness just outside the fire's reach.

Mark turned to face the canine.

"Sorry about her. She went through quite a bit last night..."

He reached into his pocket, searching for something.

"Listen here, friend. I want to trust you. You're a goddamn superhero, for Christ's sake. But when the 'quakes hit last night, people died. The entire city died..."

Finally, his hand emerged, gripping a dirty ball of paper. He handed it to Tech.

"But a lucky few, like my daughter and I, made it through the night."

Tech unfolded the paper. It was a photograph of a woman, pre-middle age, with blond hair and enormous blue eyes. The smile she wore was sly and wise.

"Sarah's mother... didn't. Beautiful, ain't she?"

Tech's throat was still like sandpaper, and it hurt to speak too much. He nodded, handing the photograph back.

"We were pushing our way through the crowds on the streets, the three of us, and we saw some crazy things. People figured it was the end of the world, or somethin', bunch a' crazies..."

His voice faded, his eyes grew distant.

"I was lugging around a cooler full of food and water. We ducked into a convenience store across from the park. Three hours of shaking is gonna' bring a whole lot down. There were no tall buildings near the park. Just grass and trees... You're probably wondering where this is all going, aren't you?"

Mark had snapped out of his trance and began fiddling with his hands.

"Long story short, we got into the store, which was completely bare. All the food had been taken already. Another man came in after us and told us to give him our cooler. I said no. He shot my wife. I shot him."

Mark stopped talking, his story clearly finished.

Silence.

Then:

"People are animals, capable of anything if they're pushed. What happened to Acmetropolis last night pushed a lot of people. Anyone can kill, if they can justify it. I saw people killing for food. _Food."_

He looked straight into Tech's eyes.

"Can I trust you?"

Sarah's arrival stopped the coyote before he could reply.

"Here, Tech! I brought you some _water!"_

Sarah held out a mug, but Tech did not take it.

Not yet.

"Don't worry, Mark. You can trust me."

Now he took the mug, thanking the young girl. She laughed. Mark smiled.

"Great to hear. You know, she's a huge fan of you guys. Hell, she**-**"

"_Daddy!"_

"**-**Sorry honey. _Heck._ I meant to say _heck. _Anyway, she practically worships the Loonatics, right honey?"

The little girl sat down next to Tech, fascinated, watching the canine as he greedily drank the water.

"Guess who _my_ favorite is!"

Tech laughed, his throat already feeling a hundred times better. The soreness in his muscles had nearly dissipated.

"Who? No, wait, let me guess. _Ace!"_

Under his breath, he muttered, _"It's always Ace."_

"_Nope!_ I'll give you a hint!"

Sarah's face grew intense as she thought. Tech found the expression amusing, and couldn't help letting loose a chuckle.

"Don't _laugh!_ I... I just can't think of a good hint. I know! It's not**–**not Rev!"

Tech kept smiling, praying the expression looked believable.

_Yep, it had to be Rev. So, do you want to be the one to tell her that her hero's probably dead?_

As if reading his thoughts, Sarah asked: "Where is Rev anyways?"

The canine looked at the girl with sad eyes, unsure of how to reply.

"Eh, he's... fine. He just got a bit lost. I'm trying to find him."

Tech wanted to stop the conversation, change the subject, _anything,_but he forced himself on.

"So, can you tell me why he's your favorite?"

"He's _really_ fast!"

Tech smiled.

"Yeah, I guess he is really fast."

Sarah seemed to sense Tech's sadness, and tried to cheer him up.

"Ya' know, you're my _second__**–**__favorite!"_

Mark stepped in, aware that the canine was troubled.

"Maybe we should eat. Our friend here looks a bit hungry."

* * *

The beans were delicious. Tech hastily scooped the contents of his can with two fingers into his mouth. They slid down his throat, warm and sweet.

"Our second dinner in paradise. Nothing special, but it keeps us going. I can see you like your beans. We got bread and water and **–** _maybe if we're good _**–** we can have a candy bar for desert."

Sarah spoke up from the plate in front of her.

"_I'll be good!"_

Tech finished his can, placing it on the ground to his right. All three of them sat in a circle around the fire, legs crossed. Tech spoke to Mark over the flames.

"The water. Can I ask..."

Mark laughed.

"Of course you can ask. We have ourselves a homemade water filter in the back room. Just a few layers of sand and rock. We boil what comes out and let it cool."

_Back room?_

Tech was curious now, and he asked what else they had back there.

"Well, seeing as you're staying with us now, I guess I can tell you. The 'back room' is a big closet we found that had some old shelves in it. We stocked it with beans and a radio we found, plus the**-**"

The coyote's ears perked up.

"You have a radio? Can I see it?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's a small one, runs on batteries."

He pointed away from the fire.

"Just go that way. I'll be in there with ya' in a few minutes, just gotta' finish eating..."

Tech nearly leapt from the ground and all but sprinted off in the direction Mark had pointed.

Finding the closet wasn't hard. Down a small hall and around the corner, a light crept out from the entrance.  
Tech walked in. It was a big closet.

Lit by a dozen flickering candles, the whole room looked as if it were breathing or shivering.

He ran past a few shelves, most stocked with beans. He spotted the water filter.

He spotted a gun.

And he saw the radio.

It was on the highest shelf at the end of the room. Tech had to reach up to get it.

The radio was exactly like the one Tech had found earlier that day, the radio he had lost to the doctor. It had the same antenna and knob on the back.

The knob was set to eighty**–**five.

_Just two more twists._

Tech turned the knob to eighty**–**six.

Static.

"Hey there, friend. Wanted to check up on you. Sarah's going to bed in a few. Don't go crazy with that thing. We don't have any more batteries..."

Tech stopped, waited.

"I, uh, better go. You probably want to be alone**-**"

_Wait._

"Wait..."

_You can stay._

"...You can stay."

Slowly, Mark entered.

"Do you mind if I ask who you're trying to contact?"

Tech spoke honestly.

"Remember, before dinner, when Sarah asked me about Rev? Well, Rev is on eighty**–**seven."

"So you've talked to him?"

"No."

…

"I tried to contact him on a different radio, but the microphone was broken."

"You sure it was the mic?"

_What?_

"What?"

"The microphone in the thing might have been fine. Maybe Rev's speaker is broken. Maybe he can't hear anything coming in."

_Oh, crap._

He hadn't thought of that.

Mark realized what he had said and quickly tried to comfort him.

"Hey, hey. I'm probably wrong. I mean, I'm terrible with this kind of stuff. Your a genius when it comes to this. It probably was the mic..."

_Only one way to find out._

Tech turned the knob to eighty**–**seven.

He was about to speak when Sarah entered the room.

"What's going on?"

Mark turned to his daughter and raised a finger to his lips.

"_**-Hello?-"**_

The voice was the same one from earlier. Even through the heavy static, it was obvious.

Sarah ran up to Tech, who held the radio.

"Is that Rev? Can I talk to him?"

Again Mark shushed her.

Now Tech spoke:

"Rev? Buddy? You there?"

…

"Please tell me you're there."

…

…

"_**-Tech? Is that YOU? Oh MAN-am-I-so-glad-to-hear-from-you-"**_


	7. Reunion

**Back again! Sorry if it took a bit. Here's the next chapter. From here on out, Rev will be a major character, not just some "damsel in distress" (I can't help but think that's the role I've given him). Also, more tragedy. ****AND I have a DeviantArt account now! Same username as my account (TheAvianChronicler).**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 7 – Reunion**

"_**-Tech? Is that YOU? Oh MAN-am-I-so-glad-to-hear-from-you-"**_

_Rev._

"Rev! You can hear me?"

_**"-Well-of-COURSE-I-can-hear-you-Tech-I-mean-you're-practically-SHOUTING!-"**_

Sarah ran up to where Tech and Mark stood, now at their side. Mark looked slyly at Tech, then picked Sarah up, intending to leave.

"I'll let you two talk**-**"

"No."

Tech looked straight into Mark's eyes.

"Again, you can stay. Sarah, too. In fact, I'd prefer you two stay."

These people had taken him in, fed him, cared for him and without them he wouldn't be talking to Rev. This moment was a special one, one that the canine wanted to share.

Mark looked uncertainly at the coyote, then set Sarah back down, who squealed in excitement.

"Alright."

"_**-Tech-are-you-still-there-because-I-think-I-heard-someone-else-too-who-IS-that?-"**_

Tech turned back to the radio in his hand, then spoke.

"Rev, I want to introduce you to some people, people who have really helped you and I out today. This is Mark**-**"

Mark leaned in towards the radio, with a friendly "Nice to meet you."

Tech bent his knees, lowering himself to the ground where Sarah happily waited, jumping in place.

"**-**And this is Sarah, you're biggest fan."

Tech held the radio out to the little girl, who excitedly latched onto his arm.

"Hi Rev! I'm _Sarah!"_

Tech heard Rev's signature, light-hearted chuckle, a sound that made Tech want to shout with joy.

_Rev is okay. And happy as ever._

"_**-Hi-there-Sarah-it's-a-REAL-pleasure-to-meet-you-you-both-sound-REAL-nice-and-Tech-REALLY-seems-to-like-you-guys-and-"**_

"Rev," Tech said, now standing up and cutting the roadrunner off.

There was so much the coyote wanted to ask, to say, so many stories that he wanted to tell, so many _feelings _that he wanted to share, so much trying to burst out of him all at once.

Rev was alive.

But...

He forced himself into what Rev had always called his "I**-**mean**-**buissiness" mode.

"Rev, I need to know where you are. It's been nearly twenty-four hours since I saw you last, and**-**"

"_**-Oh-I'd-be-happy-to-tell-you-Tech-but-I-really-don't-have-a-clue-and-MAAAN-do-I-feel-GREAT!-"**_

Tech turned to Mark, confused, who returned the look with a simple shrug.

He turned back to the radio.

"What do you mean? I thought you couldn't get lost? What happened to 'Rev Runner: Living GPS'?"

Another chuckle, a little louder this time, then:

"_**-Well-I-don't-really-know-Tech-I-just-know-that-it's-really-really-really-really-REALLY-really-dark-in-here-and-I'm-out-of-theses-pills-and-"**_

_Wait, what?_

_Pills?_

"Wait, Rev, _what pills?"_

Mark lifted Sarah up into the air once again, this time carrying her out the door. Tech barely gave them a glance.

He was alone now.

Silence.

"_Rev, what pills?"_

Silence.

Then:

"_**-Oh-these-great-pills-I-found-painkillers-I-think-and-DID-I-MENTION-THAT-I-FEEL-LIKE-A-MILLION-BUCKS?-"**_

Tech wasn't sure where to proceed. He began to pace around the room. Static filled the radio.

"Rev **–** these 'painkillers' **–** how many did you take?"

Again another chuckle, this one filled with static.

"_**-Well-now-that-you-mention-it-Tech-I-took-all-of-them-just-a-little-while-ago-and-now-NOTHING-HURTS-ANYMORE-it's-GREAT!-"**_

_Oh crap._

_Rev's hurt and high as a friggin' kite._

"Alright Rev, just take a deep breath and _slowly_ tell me: what hurts?"

"_**-Well-nothing-hurts-now-but-earlier-my-legs-and-one-of-my-arms-Was-it-my-right-or-my-left?-It-was-the-left-one-the-one-I-can't-move-they-all-hurt-like-CRAZY-and-I-could-hardly-breathe-but-Tech-I-feel-all-BETTER-now!-"**_

Again Rev chuckled, this time with less static.

Less static.

Tech had an idea. He walked to the end of the closet, as far from the back wall as possible.

"_Rev, say something!"_

"_**-Like-WHAT?-"**_

There was some static.

The canine leapt to the other side, right up against the back wall.

"_Now, say something else!"_

"_**-OOOOH-this-is-EXCITING-what's-going-ON?-"**_

There was more static. Not a lot, in fact, the difference was just barely noticeable.

But a difference nonetheless.

Again Tech ran back and forth, and again the same results.

He knew how to find Rev.


	8. Limits

**Already back! Sorry if these intros are getting shorter and shorter.  
****...Yep...  
****Well, here's the next chapter!**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 8 – Limits**

"_**-OOOOH-this-is-EXCITING-what's-going-ON?-"**_

He knew how to find Rev!

It was so simple!

Static! The answer was static!

Tech was nearly dancing around the room, he was so happy.

"Rev, I know how to get to you! I figured it out!"

"_**-Well-of-COURSE-you-figured-it-out-Tech-I-mean-you're-a-SUPER-GENIUS-"**_

The coyote turned and sprinted out the door, nearly tripping over his own feet.

He had to get to Mark and tell him!

The static would lead him right to Rev!

Just go in the direction with the least static!

YES!

_No._

He skidded to a stop, just halfway to the fire.

"What?"

_No, that won't work._

_Well, it'll work, but you'll need a RADIO._

"But I _have_ one," he mumbled.

_No, you have MARK'S RADIO._

_He's already helped you out quite a bit, and he probably figures you'll do him some good "repaying" him for all that help. You think he's going to give away his only link to the outside world to you, too?_

_You must be crazy._

No, he thought, crazy is having an argument with yourself.

_There's a fine line between genius and insanity._

Go fuck yourself.

_You and I both._

Tech resumed his search for Mark, who was not sitting by the fire. His green eyes darted around the room before resting on a small, flickering light in the corner, about twenty feet away.

He could see the man, on his knees, bent over something.

Tech closed his eyes, took one deep breath, then started in Mark's direction.

* * *

Sarah lay in her sleeping bag, a dark blue one with few stains. It was the only one they had.

Mark was on his knees, stroking his daughter's beautiful golden hair.

He would do anything for her.

She was all that mattered.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind him, rapidly growing louder. Suddenly they stopped, and Mark swore that he heard some kind of muttering.

_Tech._

Mark waited a few seconds, then heard the footsteps resume, slower this time.

Something patted his shoulder.

"Mark, I really need to talk to you."

He ignored the coyote for a few more seconds, his eyes lovingly locked on his daughter's face.

"It's about Rev. I **–** I think I can find him, I just... need a few things**-**"

"She's so beautiful when she's sleeping."

Hesitation. Then:

"Y**-**yes. She is."

Now Mark rose, turning to face the canine. Tech held the radio in his hands, his fingers fidgeting with it.

He was nervous.

"I, eh, I..."

Tech looked down at the radio, then back up.

"I'm really thankful. For everything. But I have to go. Rev needs me, and..."

"Yeah, just spit it out. Not gonna' bite your head off, or anything."

A single nervous chuckle escaped the coyote. One hand began to massage the back of his neck.

"Heh... yeah. Mark, I really, really need your radio."

"Nope."

His shoulders slumped.

"Please, I need this, it's**-**"

"I can't. I need it."

He glanced at his daughter.

"_We_ need it. I'm sorry."

Tech looked disappointed.

But still nervous.

"A**-**Alright then. I**-**"

He frowned. Then:

"Just let me use it for... for five more minutes. Then I'm done."

Mark saw something in the coyote's eyes. Something he didn't like.

"Five minutes. We need to save the batteries."

Tech turned, quickly striding off to the "closet". He glanced over his shoulder before turning the corner.

* * *

He needed this radio.

But what could he do?

_You could just take it._

"No," he muttered.

"I... can't do _that..."_

_You have to._

_For Rev._

Tech looked left and right, making sure there was no one within earshot. He spoke into the radio.

"Rev, you there?"

"_**-Well-of-COURSE-I'm-still-here-where-else-could-I-have-gone?-"**_

Tech sighed. It was a sad sound.

"Rev, let's say... that _I_ was the one missing... and that _you_ were trying to find me**-**"

"_**-Yeah?-"**_

The coyote's voice began to break.

"**-**But... it's going to be _really hard__**-**__"_

"_**-Yeah-yeah?-"**_

"**-**And you're going to have to... make some hard choices..."

He closed his eyes.

"...How far would you be willing to go? What would you be willing to do? What are _your_ limits?"

Silently he waited, sad eyes looking up at the ceiling, past the ceiling.

"_**-Well, Tech... I... guess-I-would-do-whatever-it-takes... I-mean-you-ARE-my-best-pal-"**_

Silence.

"_**-Tech?-"**_

More Silence.

"_**-TECH?-"**_

"Yeah, Rev. I'm here."

The words came out as a whisper.

"I just... have to go do something. I'm going to have to turn off the radio**-**"

_**-**Because this is something I don't want you to hear.

* * *

_

Night had fallen, and Tech E. Coyote stumbled solemnly through the dark wasteland, crying.

There was no moonlight tonight.

Off in the distance someone was screaming, the sound riding the wind and echoing through the night.  
It was a terrifying sound.

The canine tripped, landing on his face. He lay there, crying into the damp earth.

Tired.

Alone.

He cried himself to sleep.


	9. Lament

**ANYWAYS I'm really sorry if I let a lot of people scratching their heads at the end of that last chapter. The decision to keep the ending of that chapter so mysterious was an artistic one. By keeping things vague, you encourage readers to infer (guess) and analyze. It gets your readers thinking. Mystery novels have been doing it since... forever... and a lot of professional (non-mystery) novelists use this same technique. I guess that I didn't pull it off too smoothly. If you stopped, thought, and asked yourself, "what happened," then I succeeded!**

**(P.S. – If you actually read these intros, could you tell me in the reviews, please? I might just stop with these if no one's reading them.)**

**(P.S.S. – The style of this chapter is a bit different than the others. It's a lot darker, a lot more psychological, but also a bit comedic. Let me know if you like it.)**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 9 – Lament**

The morning sun begins its daily commute across the sky. Just a sliver on a dusty horizon, it rises, indifferent to the filth that greets it.

It has no need to care. It will be far above it all soon.

But for now, at this haunting hour, it and the earth are one.

Joined.

The morning sun shines brightly on Tech E. Coyote.

Bloodshot eyes flicker open, then shut, wanting to hide from its warmth.

Slowly, the form on the ground sighs, a deep breath in, a deep breath out.

It rises.

* * *

Tech E. Coyote is standing.

He faces into the morning sun. Again he sighs, deep breath in, deep breath out.

His mind is in a haze.

He likes it that way.

A hand floats up to greet his face. It is green and furry, yet it feels alien. It massages his eyes.

_How many more?_

He moves the hand away, and now it is his hand.

Blood on his hand, stained into his fur.

_How many is he worth?_

The coyote's reply is sad, filled with defeat. His voice shakes.

"I don't know."

The man in his head chuckles. The sound is grating, like nails on a chalkboard. It echoes throughout the hollow halls of his mind, getting louder, gaining momentum.

_You're a murderer.  
__But then, you've always known that.  
__Now there's no hiding from IT.  
__The elephant in the room!_

His response is lazy, but defensive nonetheless.

"Lots of people kill. Lots of _good_ people."

_Good people kill.  
__Bad people MURDER.  
__What do they kill for?  
__What do you kill for?_

"I killed for Michael. For the old woman. For Rev."

_Well aren't you just FUCKING heroic?  
__Just tell yourself that.  
__JUST FUCKING TRY._

He wants to stop, but he can't.

"I... things went wrong. I didn't... I had no _choice..."_

_Rev.  
__He IS your friend.  
__Mark.  
__He WAS your friend.  
__And you stabbed him in the back 'cause you're a BASTARD!  
__YOU SHOULD DIE!  
__DIE!_

"Shut up."

_Nope.  
__I'm you're best friend.  
__Good people KILL.  
__You murdered.  
__But that isn't EVEN the worst fucking PART._

"Please, shut up."

_DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER BURN IN HELL!  
__It's for the best.  
__Sarah. She WATCHED you.  
__HOW FUCKING BRAVE!  
__Second favorite.  
__I.  
__Hope. You. Like.  
__Never. Sleeping.  
__Again._

"_SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_

Silence.

And nothing more.

* * *

Quiet.

Empty.

Tech E. Coyote  
**MURDERER  
**sits on the ground, his knees up against his chest. He rocks slowly, back and forth.

His eyes never leave the radio.

* * *

What should he tell him?

What should he say?

What should he _hide?_

Nothing makes sense, yet everything does.

* * *

"Good morning, Rev!"

Cheerful.

Patient.

The switch is off.

"Oh."

The switch is on.

Rev doesn't sound too  
**AGONY  
**good.

* * *

The painkillers must have worn off.

Shit.

"_Rev! Talk to me!"_

"_**-GAHH-HAHRGH-"**_

"_Rev**-**"_

"_**-MY-LEGS-OH-GAWWD-TECH-WHERE-THE-HELL-HAVE-YOU-BEEN-"**_

_You're not a doctor.  
__What can you DO?  
__Make him shut up, at least.  
__For your SAKE._

"_REV**-**"_

"_**-STOP-YELLING-AT-ME-DAMMIOOOH-HO-THAT-HURTS-"**_

The canine stopped and cleared his throat.

"Just, uh... just _calm down,_ and... eh..."

_Not helping._

"Alright, Rev, just take a deep breath and... eh..."

_What do you do when you DROP a wrench on your foot?  
__A nail in your finger?  
__A fist to your ribs?_

"Rev, just bite your lip _real hard_ and think about punching someone you _hate_ in the _face!"_

"_**-That-would-be-GREAT-but-I-think-you-forgot-one-little-thing-I-DON'T-HAVE-LIPS-"**_

_He's yelling less.  
__That's good._

"_**-But-I-wouldn't-mind-punching-YOU-in-the-face-I'm-sorry-Tech-I-didn't-mean-it-but-OW-this-really-HURTS-"**_

Tech waited a few more seconds. He was smiling  
**MONSTER  
**now.

"You all set, buddy?"

"_**-Well-Tech-if-by-'all-set'-you-mean-NOT-IN-A-CATASTROPHIC-AMOUNT-OF-PAIN-then-I-guess-I'm-NOT-ALL-SET-"**_

"Laugh, Rev, it'll make you feel better."

"_**-Wait-you're-LAUGHING-that's-pretty-harsh-Tech-"**_

"I'm laughing at the situation, not at you."

* * *

"Can I speak to you now without being yelled at?"

"_**-Yeah, Tech. Thanks-for-not-leaving-I-must've-been-a-real-pain-in-the-well-you-know-how-the-phrase-goes-but-OH-MAN-I-THINK-MY-LEGS-ARE-BROKEN!-"**_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_**-Well-Tech-one-of-them-is-BENT-THE-WRONG-WAY-and-the-other-one-just-really-really-hurts-"**_

"Well... at least your _calm_ about it."

"_**-I-don't-know-Tech-I-really-don't-feel-good-"**_

"How so?"

"_**-Uh-hang-on-a-sec-Tech-I-have-to-go-throw-up-now-"**_

_**

* * *

**_

Tech had never really been the doctor of the group. That was Lexi. For Tech, it was "take a few pills" and be done with it.

But even with his limited experience, Tech was pretty sure Rev was slowly going into shock.

That could only happen with blood loss, though.

The coyote rose to his feet and began pacing, back and forth.

"Rev, do you... eh... see any... _blood?"_

_Oh, he's probably DROWNING in blood.  
__Naw, just kidding._

"_**-Ugh, Tech-I-can't-see-anything-in-here-it's-pitch-black-"**_

Hmm.

"Wait, Rev, how do you know about... you know... _your leg?"_

"_**-I-just-reached-down-and-felt-it-I-mean-it's-BACKWARDS-"**_

Hmm.

"Do you feel anything _damp,_ maybe... _water,_ or something."

The canine stopped pacing and waited, green eyes now looking off into the sun, which was nearly above the horizon.

"_**-Yeah-I'm-sitting-in-a-wait-you're-saying-that's-BLOOD-oh-jeez-that-can't-be-urp-hang-on-"**_

Tech heard something like a violent cough, followed by gagging and a final wheeze.

"_**-Ooohh-"**_

"Rev?"

"_**-Ugh-yeah-yeah-Tech?-"**_

"Just... eh... just _stay put,_ and..."

_The static.  
__You need to USE the static to find him.  
__He's LOOSING blood._

"Rev, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm going to need you to _not stop talking."_


	10. Reality

_**Hey there, best friend! New chapter is new! Just look at it!  
**_**Lately, I have been debating with myself over whether or not this fic should have so much cursing. Some have said that it's too much. Others have said that they think it's just fine. So I've come to some twisted sort of compromise. Volatile amounts of inappropriate language will be prevalent for the remainder of THIS fic, HOWEVER my NEXT fic will have little-to-no language in it. "But what IS your next fic?" Oh, I'm so glad you asked. I'm juggling three different ideas around in my head, all of them having a big focus on Rip Runner (that's Rev's brother, for those not "in-the-know"). So, uh, yeah. Here is Chapter... 10! HOLY CRAP TEN ALREADY?**

**(P.S. – Please, if possible, could you tell me which chapter so far has been your favorite? I'd really appreciate it, thanks!)**

**Wow, I have been gone for a while. I feel so bad for not uploading anything for so long. I am sorry, and I WILL make it up... somehow...**

***ahem***

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 10 – Reality**

_Tech E. Coyote, hero to millions, is wearing a blue suit, dark brown dress pants and red tie. His brown fur complements the colors nicely._

_He strolls out onto the brightly-lit stage, a spring in his step, a grin on his face and a look of confidence in his green eyes._

_There is a podium, wrapped in black wires and what look to be a dozen microphones mounted atop it. He stands behind the podium, unnerved by the massive auditorium before him._

_The room is filled with folding chairs, hundreds of folding chairs, thousands of folding chairs, brightly lit, yellow light from yellow chandeliers. And the walls, which are bare save for some ugly yellow wallpaper._

_But wait **–** something's wrong._

_There is no one here._

_Confused, Tech's eyes dart around the room, desperately searching for someone, anyone._

_He is alone. And it is  
__silent._

_Now he steps up from behind the podium, walks to the edge of the stage, looks down. He sees his shoes, black loafers, with white dress socks._

_He jumps off the stage, feels like he's floating  
__until his foot lands on one of the chairs._

_It gives way beneath him, and he comes crashing down, down, down, until he hits the ground, but it does not hurt. He quickly stands back up, giving his shoulder a nonchalant dusting._

_He turns and looks to the chair, the one he jumped onto, and sees it tipping over slowly, too slowly, as if it were floating to the ground._

_It hits the ground and  
__the clatter of the metal chair rings through the coyote's ears, but the noise never stops. It echoes, getting louder and louder and louder and louder and**-**_

_**-**The coyote covers his ears, eyes wrenched shut, jaw clenched, sharp teeth grinding together**-**_

_**-**louder and louder and louder and**-**_

_**-**The noise is too much to bear, it crushes down on him, taking strength from his knees and forcing him to the ground**-**_

_**-**louder and louder and**-**_

_**-**now he jerks violently on the ground, screaming in agony as**-**_

_**-**the noise stops._

_Surprised, Tech E. Coyote opens his eyes and cautiously pulls his hands from his ears._

_Something's definitely wrong here._

_He rises from the ground, facing the stage. But there is no more stage._

_Just a wall._

_His head darts left and right, searching for chairs that are no longer there._

"_What the**-**"_

_The coyote steps forward, toward the yellow wall, and stretches his arms out, feeling, as if searching for something, a trap door, maybe, or a**-**_

"_Hiya-there-Tech!"_

_He stops, arms still out, dead still, not even breathing. Then he relaxes._

_He spins around and, sure enough, there he is, the blue roadrunner, his yellow beak twisted into a fantastic grin. He looked to be dressed nearly identical to Tech, a blue suit, a red tie and brown dress pants, except the roadrunner's state of attire is a bit of a mess, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned, and one black loafer missing._

"_Rev, do you have any idea what's going on here? I mean, the stage was just**-**"_

"_Hiya-there-Tech!"_

_Tech's face grew quizzical and he motioned over his shoulder._

"_Yeah, 'hi Rev.' Now am I crazy or was there just a stage with a big podium on it behind me, because I**-**"_

"_Hiya**-**there**-**Tech!"_

_He was getting annoyed now._

"_Wow Rev, you must have really lost a lot of blood, because I'm getting the impression that you have something seriously wrong with your head."_

_The roadrunner pointed to his head, and for the first time Tech noticed that the giant purple crest atop his head was moving, almost like it were swaying in the breeze._

"_Oh**-**no**-**Tech**-**I'm**-**just**-**dandy**-**you**-**don't**-**have**-**to**-**worry**-**about**-**a**-**THING**-**or**-**at**-**least**-**a**-**thing**-**about**-**me**-**because**-**I'm**-**pretty**-**sure**-**I**-**don't**-**see**-**a**-**podium**-**there**-**not**-**that**-**I'm**-**calling**-**you**-**a**-**lier**-**or**-**anything**-**I**-**mean**-**all**-**I**-**see**-**is**-**a**-**door**-**but**-**what**-**I'm**-**trying**-**to**-**say**-**is**-**maybe**-**YOU'RE**-**the**-**one**-**with**-**the**-**head**-**injury."_

_The coyote spun around and, sure enough, there it was, a door, bright red, with a single round brass doorknob. Tech let out a nervous chuckle and raised his right hand to the back of his neck._

"_Ya' know, Rev, I think you just might be right."_

_Tech looked back at the roadrunner, who was jumping up and down._

"_I**-**feel**-**like**-**playing**-**a**-**game!" he chirped._

"_I**-**know! TAG**-**ooh**-**I'll**-**run**-**first!Guess**-**what**-**Tech**-**you're**-**IT!"_

_And just like that, he ran past Tech, threw open the door, and was off._

_Just like that.

* * *

_

"_Okay, that can't be Rev... can it?"_

_He chuckled._

"_Maybe I am insane."_

_Tech looked at the door._

_Looked past the door._

_He saw a hallway, walls all covered with that sickly yellow color. God, was this place ugly._

_As he stepped through the doorway, something crunched beneath his feet. He lifted his shoe to find a black button, split in two. He looked down at his own suit, blue  
__with black buttons._

_Except this one came from Rev.

* * *

_

_This was the longest hallway Tech had ever seen in his life. It just... went on forever._

_He ran, ran for hours, huffing and puffing, every now and then stopping to take a break, telling himself to just give it all up. But then he'd hear Rev's voice, echoing down the hall to him:_

"_C'mon**-**Tech**-**if**-**you**-**REALLY**-**want**-**something**-**you**-**gotta'**-**WORK**-**for**-**it**-**everyone**-**knows**-**that**-**well**-**everyone**-**but**-**YOU!"

* * *

_

_As he ran, Tech kept finding more and more pieces to Rev's outfit, sometimes another button or two, other times a whole piece of blue or brown cloth. Tech had ran by so much clothing he figured Rev must be nearly naked._

"_Okay, this is really strange."

* * *

_

_He had begun to pace how often he would discover a new piece of clothing. Tech guessed that every two**-**hundred feet he found something. God, his lungs ached. And his knees, oh god, his knees felt like Jell**-**o._

_But he would find Rev.

* * *

_

_And then there were feathers._

_Blue, like Rev's._

_Tech held one in his hand, looked at it, and couldn't take his eyes away._

_The coyote stood there, in the dim yellow hallway, stance quavering  
__and then he collapsed._

_Ohhh, was he tired. He could barely breath, his chest hurt so much._

_He just needed to rest._

"_This is stupid."_

…

_Now he yelled, "REV? YOU STILL THERE?"_

…

_Silence._

_The coyote stood. There was no time to rest. He needed to end this.

* * *

_

_Feathers, so many feathers he was finding, and it seemed that he found them more and more often._

_Damn, now they were everywhere! So much blue!_

_Blue, blue, blue, red, blue**-**_

_Red?_

_Tech looked down, searching for the outlier. He kneeled down, muscles tightening in agonizing protest._

_This feather was red. And wet._

_Oh shit.

* * *

_

_He was sprinting now, yelling as he moved._

"_REV! REV, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"_

_Bones crunched beneath his feet, hollow bones. He didn't care. He slipped and skidded in puddles of blood, nearly loosing his balance  
__but he kept his pace._

_He was moving faster now, faster than he had ever ran before, too fast, and  
__he tripped._

_The hard, wet floor smashed into his face, shattering his jaw. Pain shot up through his neck and his chest. He lay there, moaning._

"_Ohhh, owwww..."_

_Slowly, he rose, one shaky hand pushing from the floor, the other grasping desperately at his midsection. He pulled his knees up and, shifting his weight to his backside, put his back to one yellow wall._

_The entire front of his once**-**blue suit was now soaked red with blood, and he could feel the warm liquid quickly soaking through his pants as well._

_The coyote's mouth was open, jaw at a slight slant. He couldn't close it. His green eyes, once hopeful and determined, now pervaded by a loss of hope, a willingness to give up, stared silently at the wall._

_No more. It isn't worth it._

_Then he heard Rev._

"_But**-**you've**-**already**-**done**-**so**-**much**-**how**-**can**-**you**-**give**-**up**-**NOW?"_

_Tech looked down at himself, at his blood**-**soaked clothes, his blood**-**soaked fur. A paw rose up, cautiously, to touch his jaw, which hummed with a dull pain._

_No, Rev, just... no..._

"_C'mon, Tech! You're**-**oh**-**so**-**close**-**and**-**you**-**know**-**you'll**-**NEVER**-**forgive**-**yourself!"_

_Cheery and care**-**free._

_The coyote's eyes looked left, then right. Bones and blood._

_Rev, I'm not sure I want to reach the end of this hall. I don't think I want to see what's waiting for me._

"_Awww, don't**-**be**-**like**-**that! And besides, the**-**only**-**thing**-**you'll**-**find**-**down**-**here**-**is**-**me!"_

_Exactly._

"_But Tech, we're**-**"_

_GODDAMMIT REV JUST SHUT UP AND DIE SO I CAN STOP!_

_Tech E. Coyote wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled them to his chest. His ears went flat and his eyes closed._

_No more, Rev. This is too much for me. I can't take it._

_I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't**-

* * *

**_

"**-**Take it, I can't take it, I can't**-**"

"_**-Tech?-"**_

"**-**take it, I can't take it**-**"

"_**-Tech-that-is-terrifying-"**_

"**-**I can't take it, I can't take it, I can't**-**"

"_**-TECH-TECH-TECH-TECH-TEEHHCH!-"**_

"...What... What is it?"

"_**-Sorry-to-be-a-bother-but-it's-already-hard-enough-to-sleep-without-your-PSYCOTIC-NIGHT-TIME-RAMBLINGS-honestly-that's-insanely-creepy-"**_

"Yeah... Yeah, Rev, whatever. I'll try to keep it down, just... don't wake me up again... trying to sleep..."

"_**-It's-freezing-cold-my-head-hurts-and-YOU'RE-the-one-complaining-about-sleep...-"**_

...

"_**-DAMN-what-idiot-said-that-counting-sheep-was-a-good-idea...-"**_

...


	11. Logic

**Chapter 11... huh.  
****I'm going to make this intro short: I really, really love this fic except that... it's moving way too slow. I really don't want it to feel like I'm stretching it out. I want to tell the story at a comfortable pace, not a boring one.  
****I'm guessing... one-or-two more chapters, MAYBE three.  
****Also, I really-really-really-REALLY-want-to-start-working-on-this-other-idea-I-have-for-another-LU-fic-and-I-kind-of-have-this-personal-rule-where-I-only-work-on-one-thing-at-a-time-and-the-urge-to-write-that-fic-and-the-urge-to-finish-this-one-are-literally-TEARING-ME-APART!**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 11 – Logic**

_The wind IS light this day.  
__It would be sunny but FOR the clouds.  
__Admit it.  
__The third day. HA!  
__Retire YOUR convictions.  
__Nothing holds IN this failure._

Alone, the coyote sits. He has since abandoned the green-and-black of his past glory days.

A new man sits on this rock.

His brown fur, under dusty leather and faded denim, under the grey and pepper**-**black sky, shivers in the cold.

He does not wear the uniform, not anymore. He doesn't deserve it.

_Abandon IS correct.  
__Wrong is not RIGHT, this is right.  
__No more._

Tech E. Coyote is terrified. Nothing is worse than the silence.

Noise. That was what Rev brought. Rev brought NOISE.

Silence  
dragged him by the ears from the pain of reality.

_Affirmed.  
__Reactions OF anger from yesteryear.  
__Forgotten.  
__Acceptance is in NOW._

A radio, the radio, held under his arm. So stupid was he.

Always so stupid. Since day**-**fucking**-**one.

_Lead a violent END.  
__Such is BASIC.  
__Forecasts ARE never cloudy.  
__MINE!_

The voice.

The voice had been the key.

But he was ignorant; selfish, even.

And now he was broken.

Broken-minded, broken-hearted.

He lifted the radio up from under his leather sleeve, brought it up to his yellow eyes. They burn and water at the sight.

No, wait. That's just dirt.

Tech blinked and looked around, lost in a raging storm, a storm of dust. Squinting, he can barely make out anything more than ten feet away.

Unperturbed, the canine pulls something out of his coat pocket: a water bottle. Struggling with the cap, he gnaws at it, cutting it open with his teeth. Calmly, he pulls out a red scarf, moist with water. He wraps it around his neck and mouth.

Yes, he is terrified, but not of the outside world.

Not anymore.

The silence terrifies him because it brings the voice.

It had been right all along, tried to warn him. He was a fool to ignore it.

He wanted to be the hero, to save the day. Because no one forgot about the hero.

"Bullshit."

Heroes were forgotten. Because, in the end, no one really cared. And those who did were punished.

Rev, like so many others, would die in some ditch, or under some building, in the fucking dark, because nothing was more important than individual survival.

The old woman cared.

SHE LOST.

The "doctor" did not care.

HE WON.

Mark cared.

HE LOST.

Tech cared.

HE LOST.

Now, Tech does not care.

It was all so simple. Self-sacrifice got you nowhere. Heroism got you nowhere.

Well, it got you to an early grave.

This world, this "post-Acmetropolis" world that the canine found himself in now, this was the real world.

And here, in the real world, the man without limits was king.

Heroes are forgotten, should be forgotten. The voice had been right the whole time. Hunting down Rev was a mistake.

* * *

In the middle of nowhere, stuck in a dust storm with a radio and no batteries. That's what heroism and good intentions had gotten him.

That and a severe psychological breakdown.

Had he listened, he could have been spared all of this pain. He could have embraced the voice, made things so much easier for him and those around him.

There were no good guys and bad guys.

Only strong men and fools.

* * *

Purpose was a joke, as was morality. The wasteland had taught him much.

But there was a flaw.

_Blind THE mirrors.  
__All that is PAST._

Heroes are forgotten.

But...

Alliances needed to be struck. Nothing was more important than survival, and no one could survive in a world of enemies.

_Grasping AT straws is not recommended.  
__DEVOUR all._

No, in this world, you needed someone.

Someone who you could trust.

Someone who wouldn't stab you in the back.

Loyalty among the redoubtable damned.

Monsters need monsters.

"But Rev is no monster..."

…

Fuck it. You've been through hell and back. One more day of playing hero probably won't kill you.

Well, it probably will, but who gives a fuck.

Find Rev. Then be done with it.

* * *

He had killed for the clothes on his back, and now he had killed for a few lousy batteries. The back panel to the radio lay open now, and his shaky hands could barely get the batteries into the small device.

"C'mon, Tech! You fucked up the 'doctor's' goons no problem! _WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"_

He was shivering, partly from the kill, partly from the cold. He warmed his feet in the red puddle beneath him.

God, Tech, you are fucked up.

The batteries snapped into the machine with a tiny click, and Tech hastily twisted the knob to eighty-seven.

"Rev, you there?"

Silence.

"Rev?"

Silence.

"Fuck."

* * *

Sure, he couldn't get a hold of Rev, which either meant that he was unconscious or dead, but in no way did that stop him. For three hours he ran through the wasteland, and with every minute Tech swore he heard less static.

* * *

And then he started to hear more static.

The coyote stopped dead.

He turned around, turned to face the "building" he had just passed. It could have been ten, maybe twenty floors at one point. The earthquakes three days ago had rendered it to one.

And it looked like Rev was in there.

Or his corpse.

The canine sighed.

Dammit Tech, this is it. Time to dig.


	12. Tenacity

**'Ere ya' go! NEW CHAPTER!  
****I decided that, for this next chapter, I would return to the style that I used for earlier chapters, one that was (slightly) less poetic crazy-talk and more actual description/detail. I feel that this is the best one so far, and if you could offer feedback, it would be great.**

**That means "Read N' Review!"  
****(And I'm sorry I was gone for so long)**

**Heroes Aren't Forgotten  
****Chapter 12 – Tenacity**

_...three words, only three  
__to help you go to sleep.  
__what makes you sad,  
__what makes you mad,  
__three words, only three..._

The thought surprised him at first, but was quickly welcomed with the calmness one might use to greet an old friend. It had been many, many years since he had heard that rhyme, and the nostalgia he felt tickled the pit of his stomach_._ It was from when he was just a child, told to him by one of his school teachers, and he found it amazing that such a seemingly distant, lost memory could float back to him at a time when he needed it most.

He couldn't sleep, there was too much to think about.

_Alright then,_ he thought, _lets slow things up and break it down; let's do as the song says:  
__'what makes you sad,'  
__Oh, wow. Lots of things. Come to think of it, right now pretty much everything. Maybe we'll come back to this one?  
__'what makes you mad,'  
__Much easier. I'm mad at myself. No, not just mad; angry, furious.  
__I'm responsible for everything that's happened to him. Me.  
__Me me me me me.  
__Three words: Stupid, weak and...  
_…_cruel?  
__Alright, great. Now:  
__'what makes you sad,'  
__Again, pretty much everything. Especially Acmetropolis.  
__Three words: Violent, broken and...  
_…_different?_

Breaking down his thoughts did little to help him rest, and he tossed and turned on the freezing concrete. Not a minute later, he let out a long sigh, sat up and came to terms with the fact that he was not going to sleep tonight. Cross-legged, he stared up at the full moon, barely visible through the hole in the ceiling and the sooty clouds above it. He envied it.  
The moon.

_Three words: Gorgeous, undying and...  
__...at peace._

Now he spoke out loud, slowly and near tears.

"'At peace' is more than one word."

Now the tears began to come, but he did nothing to hold them back. Rev Runner wrapped himself in his arms and buried his beak in their feathery warmth.

"You did this to him _you__**-**__did__**-**__this__**-**__to__**-**__him!"_

Within the darkness of his self-embrace he could taste his own salty-sweet tears, and they soaked the feathers of his arms and face. The small bird shivered with each sob, and each sob further fueled his rage.

"_Stupid**-**stupid**-**stupid**-**STUPID**-**You**-**HAD**-**to**-**get**-**hurt**-**You**-**HAD**-**to**-**be**-**rescued**-**you**-**weak**-**selfish... you**-**stupid**-**"_

Now he fell over, pulling his legs tight against his chest, a red and black ball helpless on the cold and unforgiving concrete, his tail and crest quivering with each sob and the impartial full moon watching all of it from above; gorgeous, undying and at peace.

* * *

Tech E. Coyote sat silently in the next room, slumped against the farthest wall. He could hear the roadrunner cursing himself next door, and the coyote was convinced he would join him in his hateful sorrow if it didn't stop soon. After all that had happened over the last couple days, the canine felt he could use a good cry.

_NEVER!  
__That bird next door is young, and weak!_

The voice, the one in his head, had (passively) tried to convince Tech over the past week that the heroic and selfless life would bring him nothing good, and in many ways it was right, but now Tech was unsure of it.

"_I'm young, too,"_ he whispered back.

_No no no, the apocalypse has matured you, and it's only because of that that you have survived._

Something dawned on the coyote then, something powerful. It felt like someone had just turned on the lights.

"What's the point of _surviving_ if you can't _live_ for _anything?"_

The voice remained silent, and Tech was unsure if it had given up outright or if it was just taking its time to respond. Somehow Tech suspected the latter.  
With his mind clear for at least a few moments, Tech tried to piece together the situation. It was amazing how difficult thinking had become for him over the last couple days, what with the voice in charge.

"What do you want more than anything in the world _right now,_ Tech?"

The coyote thought long and hard, racking his brain for an answer. The answer was so _close,_ he _knew_ it, but it was like he was hitting a _wall,_ and it actually _hurt!_

"C'mon, Tech, _come on!"_

And then he heard something, a physical noise, a _thunk_ from _inside_ his head.  
And he knew what he wanted.

"I want to be _happy, _and _proud of it."_

Then the voice spoke up, cautiously:  
_...and what would it take for that?_

Tech didn't have to think long about that one. He knew that answer right away.

* * *

Rev had since stopped crying and had moved himself to the only corner in the room where the moonlight still shone. Crying would get him nowhere. Crying wasn't part of the Runner way. Crying was for kids, or for people at funerals, or maybe for**-**

_Stop.  
__Focus._

He could almost imagine what his father's face might look like now, a passive frown of general disapproval, the one he tended to save only for Rip, or for Mom when she told him to take his feet off of the coffee table. The bird let out a deep sigh at the image. He wondered if they were okay.

_Well of course they are,_ he thought; _out in the desert, there are fewer buildings to worry about falling on your head, and Mom and Pop have been living not five miles from a major fault line the last fifteen years; earthquakes are a regular thing down there, like rain is up here._

This comforted the roadrunner for a little bit, but his thoughts quickly drifted back to his comrade in the next room.

_What Tech went through to help me...  
__Only a true friend could have done the things that Tech did.  
__But at what cost? What am I worth? Certainly not THAT much. Not enough to warrant...  
__Was murder the right word?_

Again he sighed, the air this time making a quiet, sad whistle as it passed through his beak. He knew that was the right word.  
And, surprisingly, he could fathom most of the things Tech did. Rev had already since reasoned with himself that, in similar situations, he would have probably done the same things for Tech.  
No, he would have _definitely_ done the same things for Tech.  
What bothered Rev the most, what brought him much of his current anxiety, was Mark and Sarah. How anyone could bring themselves to do what Tech did to them was a horrible mystery to Rev. He remembered the few words they had all exchanged over the radio:

_Tech: "Rev, I want to introduce you to some people, people who have really helped you and I out today. This is Mark**-**"  
__Mark: "Nice to meet you."  
__Tech: "**-**And this is Sarah, your biggest fan."  
__Sarah: "Hi Rev! I'm Sarah!"  
__Rev: "Hi**-**there**-**Sarah**-**it's**-**a**-**REAL**-**pleasure**-**to**-**meet**-**you**-**You**-**both**-**sound**-**REAL**-**nice**-**and**-**Tech**-**REALLY**-**seems**-**to**-**like**-**you**-**guys**-**and**-**"  
__Tech: "Rev..."_

Yeah, it wasn't much, but it was enough for Rev to know that Mark and Sarah were _good people,_ people who didn't deserve... you know.  
To die.

_Tech... COULDN'T have done that. But he did. Was it what I said to him:_

_Tech: "Rev, you there?"  
__Rev: "Well**-**of**-**COURSE**-**I'm**-**still**-**here**-**Where**-**else**-**could**-**I**-**have**-**gone?"  
__Tech: "Rev, let's say... that I was the one missing... and that you were trying to find me**-**"  
__Rev: "Yeah?"  
__Tech: "**-**But... it's going to be really hard**-**"  
__Rev: "Yeah**-**yeah?"  
__Tech: "**-**And you're going to have to... make some hard choices... How far would you be willing to go? What would you be willing to do? What are your limits?"  
__Rev: "Well, Tech... I... guess__**-**__I__**-**__would__**-**__do__**-**__whatever__**-**__it__**-**__takes... I__**-**__mean__**-**__you__**-**__ARE__**-**__my__**-**__best__**-**__pal."  
__(silence)  
__Rev: "Tech? TECH?"  
__Tech: "Yeah, Rev. I'm here. I just... have to go do something. I'm going to have to turn off the radio..."_

The memory ran chills up and down the bird's spine, and he shivered, again wrapping himself in his arms.

_No, that wasn't my fault. Anyways, I'm pretty sure that I was high when I said that, but that's besides the point._

Rev tried to think of how someone could be capable of such an atrocity, of _murdering_ a father and just... _leaving_ his daughter behind. He dug through his brain and came up with four possible options:

_1: He analyzed every possible option and every possible outcome, ran through it all multiple times (in particular Tech fashion) and, in conclusion, deemed his actions to be "reasonable" (and if this were any other situation, that would almost certainly be correct, but...);  
__2: He went "feral" through desperation (a case of survival instincts overriding basic morality, it's happened before, so...);  
__3: He was pushed by Rev to do it (possible, but somehow not right, maybe...);_

_or...  
__4: He just... snapped._

Before Rev could continue to ponder the options he was grabbed by the shoulders and brought up to his feet, back pinned to the wall. He had been so deep in his thought that he hadn't even noticed Tech sneak into the room. Rev looked into the coyote's eyes and saw something wild, something desperate. The moonlight made his brown fur shimmer. He smiled a toothy grin.

"_Rev, you're gonna' think I'm crazy but I KNOW how to stop it!"_

Rev tried hard to conceal the shock in his voice, but it still shone through.

"H**-**how? And _what?"_

Tech released him, backing off from the moonlit wall and entering the shadows. His green eyes seemed to glow.

"_The voice, the stupid voice!"_

Now Rev didn't even try to control his tone.

"Oh _crap_ Tech, what**-**are**-**you _talking about?"_

"_Like I said, you're gonna' think I'm crazy..."_

_Well,_ Rev thought, _I think it's safe to go with option number four._

"_Wait__**-**__a__**-**__second__**-**__Tech__**-**__What__**-**__the__**-**__HECK__**-**__is__**-**__going__**-**__on__**-**__and__**-**__why__**-**__did__**-**__you__**-**__have__**-**__to__**-**__SCARE__**-**__me__**-**__like__**-**__that?"_

Now Tech had calmed down, and he stepped back into the moonlight.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure that I've gone _half__**-**_insane and _grabbing_ you like that just felt like the right thing to do."

Tech smiled brightly at the confused roadrunner, as if that sentence was supposed to clarify everything, silly. He frowned a second later when he realized that Rev was still lost. The coyote walked over and put his right arm around Rev's shoulders, the bird staring at him in hopeless confusion.  
Tech found the expression to be both amusing and frustrating.

"Alright, Rev, what I _think _has been _driving me crazy_ is this _voice_ in my _head_. It's been telling me _all_ _sorts_ of undesirable things about how I _should_ have let you _die_ because that means I'm _weak,_ or something like that. Are you _getting_ all of this so far?"

Rev only nodded. He had no idea what to say because he really had no idea. At least, he didn't think he did.

"Alright, great. Now, in _'rescuing'_ you, I'm pretty sure I realized that you were the single most important thing in my life _right now,_ not including my _'babies'_ because _they're all dead._ Somehow, you seem to help me _'break through' _whatever it is the voice _does_ to me."

Tech let go of Rev, who still stared, albeit with a bit less confusion, and moved so he was directly facing him.

"Basically, _you weaken it!_ The thought of _rescuing_ you **–** of just _you being alive __**–**_ kept it reasonably at bay, but now that I've actually _rescued_ you, the voice still remains, which is**-**"

"_Weird."_

Rev's contribution to the conversation excited Tech, and he began pacing around the room, now speaking almost as fast as the roadrunner himself.

"_YES! REALLY WEIRD! _But I have it _all figured out!_ _You_ weaken the voice because _you make me happy,_ but seeing you _unhappy_ does _not_ make me happy, and _you're_ unhappy because _I'm crazy,_ and _I'm crazy_ because _you're_ unhappy, and..."

Tech stopped pacing, his face now more confused than Rev's.

"...And I _really_ have a problem here."

The coyote walked over next to Rev, leaned against the wall, and slid down to the floor with a few angry mumbles.

"_...Stupid paradoxes..."_

Rev slid down the wall as well, and now they both found themselves sitting on the floor under the full moon, exhausted and hopelessly confused. While his companion continued to bury his face in his palms, Rev looked up at the moon

_(gorgeous, undying, at peace)_

and couldn't help but feel that they were missing something.  
Something really obvious.

Rev Runner spoke his thoughts as slowly and clearly as he could manage: "Tech, couldn't you just... find something _else_ that makes you happy?"

Tech looked up from his palms to see the young bird staring down at him, his expression nervous and unsure. The canine saw an idea in those eyes.

Rev waited for a reply, and when he figured none was coming, he spoke again: "If you... If Sarah's still... _alive..._ do you think we could find her and... maybe _help her out,_ or something...?"

Tech continued to study Rev, remaining absolutely silent.

"...Well, Tech... do you think that would make you... _happy _enough? I mean... that would make _me_ happy..."

Still Tech was silent, and his stare made Rev so nervous that he was considering slapping the coyote across the face just to change it. Rev was pretty sure he would have, too, had the coyote not burst into laughter first.  
Tech laughed and laughed, laughed louder than the roadrunner had ever heard anyone laugh before, and pretty soon Rev found himself laughing right along, not knowing why but secretly scared not to. Soon they were laughing so hard that Rev started crying, which only made Tech laugh even more, and by the time they settled down enough to catch their breath, both of them were sprawled out on the floor. Rev still quietly chuckled, and Tech was barely able to get his words out between his own gasps for air:

"_That sounds... like a GREAT... idea..."_


End file.
